


Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of Sex

by hermioneclone



Category: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Benjamin Alire Sáenz
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Gay Relationship, Dorks in Love, Emotional Sex, Feelings, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, LGBTQ Character of Color, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 17:26:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5936752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermioneclone/pseuds/hermioneclone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His hands pulled me closer to him, his hips moved against mine. He made soft little sounds that almost sounded like my name. I wondered if he was as surrounded by me as I was by him. His lips found mine again and we were kissing. He didn’t kiss me, we kissed. Together. It still took me a little off guard every time we did it. It was so different from that first time. I wanted this, now. I could admit that I wanted this. Wanted Dante.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of Sex

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this story came to me while I was still reading the book and kind of just jumped onto the page. I loved writing in Ari's voice and I really want to write some more fics about these two dorks. This fic probably qualifies as "porn without plot" but I don't know, that label just felt too...crude in this case. Because while this story is about sex, it's really about two boys who really love each other. 
> 
> Also, I'm kind of ambiguous about when this takes place other than after the end of the book. But it probably happened within a year of it, and since Ari still isn't 18 yet, I labeled this as underage, just to be safe.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Dante was everywhere. Not that that was unusual. He was always there, right on the edge of my thoughts. But this was different. I was naked, I was hard between my legs. I was on top of Dante, who was also naked and hard between his legs, pressed up against him. He was kissing me and my mind slowly went numb. All I could think, smell, see, hear was Dante.

His hands pulled me closer to him, his hips moved against mine. He made soft little sounds that almost sounded like my name. I wondered if he was as surrounded by me as I was by him. His lips found mine again and we were kissing. He didn’t kiss me, we kissed. Together. It still took me a little off guard every time we did it. It was so different from that first time. I wanted this, now. I could admit that I wanted this. Wanted Dante.

Suddenly his pelvis jerked and he was shuddering, a soft shout echoing in the quiet of my room. A warm mess filled the space between us. It was weird. But also fired up something primal in me, I guess. I’d feel this for days, I knew, even after we’d washed up. It was like a confirmation of the truth in both of our hearts. I was his. It was nice, if a bit scary.

I wasn’t quite done yet. Part of me wondered if I should stop, if we were supposed to be finished at the same time, and maybe something was wrong if I hadn’t. It would be my luck if I can’t even have sex right. But then I felt Dante’s hand wrap firmly around me and I let out a moan that would have been embarrassing if it didn’t feel so damn good. He was quick, which I was grateful for. I didn’t like the idea of drawing this out, not when Dante was already done. It made me feel small and alone, and that felt like a strange thing to be feeling when your best friend was giving you a hand job, so I stopped thinking about it and followed him to the edge.

I was shaking afterwards. Maybe it was just all of those feelings rushing up and bursting out all at once. I wasn’t used to it. It was a vulnerable feeling and I didn’t like that. But Dante seemed to know what going on in my head. That guy always knew how to get to me. His arms wrapped around me and he held me close, not saying a word. I clung to him for a few minutes until my breathing evened out, then rolled out of his grip, onto my back. The thin sheets clung to our sweaty skin.

We laid in bed for a little while like that. I didn’t like feeling so far away from him. So I reached out and took his hand that was resting on the bed between us. He gave it a squeeze. I guessed he was smiling. I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes. He was.

“Thank you,” he finally said matter-of-factly, as if I had just passed him a napkin.

I snorted. “That’s a weird thing to say.”

“It’s a very Dante thing to say,” he corrected.

“Is there any difference?” I asked, my own mouth tugging up into a smile in the easy way it did with him.

“Probably not,” Dante admitted.

“What are you thanking me for anyway?”

Dante shrugged. The bed shifted slightly with the motion. “I was nervous, I guess. And you made me less nervous. It was nice.”

“Yeah,” I said softly, squeezing his hand back, trying to tell him everything I couldn’t put into words. “It was nice.”

***

I didn’t call him for a few days after, and he didn’t call me. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see him. All I could think about was seeing Dante again. But what if things were different now, what if...what if we broke something? What if we couldn’t be Ari and Dante anymore because we’d seen each other naked, had touched each other naked? I was afraid. I could admit that. I couldn’t pick up the phone, though. I kept busy.

One night, when my parents were out, the phone rang. I knew who it had to be before I even answered it. “Hi,” Dante greeted.

“Hi,” I answered back.

“You haven’t called.”

“Neither have you.”

“I didn’t know if you’d want to talk to me,” he admitted, his voice a little uncertain. That scared me.

“Maybe I don’t want to talk,” I replied. “Maybe talking is the last thing on my mind.”

He sighed deeply. “Ari, if you don’t-”

“I can’t stop thinking about you naked,” I blurted out. The confession brought heat to my cheeks and I was thankful that Dante could not see me over the phone.

A pause. “You like thinking about me naked?” he asked. I could see him preening in my head.

“I guess I do.”

“Well, there are worse problems to have.” I could hear the grin in his voice too. The sound of it stirred something inside me.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to be around your parents again. It would be really weird trying to talk to them and all I can think of is what we did.”

“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t. Neither was I.

“It’s too bad,” I went on. “I really like your parents.”

“You like me best, though. Right?”

“Right.”

“Ari?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s stop talking about my parents.”

“Okay. What do you want to talk about.”

“Sex.”

“You’re weird, you know that?”

“You tell me all the time.” I laughed. “Are you in your room?” he asked.

“Yep,” I said.

“Me too. Parents home?”

“Nope. You?”

“Nope. I think we should masturbate together.”

I nearly dropped the phone. “You _are_ weird.”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either, Ari,” Dante said in a soft voice. His words weren’t obviously suggestive, but they stirred something in me. What he was suggesting seemed so foreign. I still didn’t really like touching myself. It was different with Dante there. I was able to get out of my head and not think about how confusing my body was because I got to look at Dante’s body, sculpted into perfection by hours swimming in the pool. But alone in my room? It was still something that scared me a little. Not that I was going to tell Dante that. Even though maybe I should. That’s what boyfriends do, right? Tell each other what they are afraid of?

“Okay,” I said, surprising myself and I think Dante too. He really could talk me into anything. Or maybe he knew what I wanted and just was talented at getting me past my own hesitations. “How does this work? You want me to come over? Or...”

“No. On the phone.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have clothes on now?”

“I wasn’t planning on this, so yes, I have clothes on.”

“I don’t,” he said simply.

“You planned this,” I said, no hint of accusation in my voice. I pictured his room in my mind, Dante’s lithe body spread across his bed. On top of the covers, probably. I wondered if his hand had been trailing up and down his chest as we talked, if he had been touching himself. The thought brought on an arousal so sudden it felt like I was caught in a downpour.

“I was confidently optimistic,” he corrected. “Come on, I want to see you naked.”

I snorted again as I quickly worked myself out of my pants. “You can’t see me.”

“But in my head I can see you. Can you see me?”

“Yeah,” I admitted quietly. “Hold on.” I placed the receiver down and walked over to my bedroom door. I really wish it had a lock on it. I dragged my rocking chair in front of it, just in case. I stripped out of my t-shirt and hopped back onto the bed, clutching the phone to my ear. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Good,” he said. Dante started whispering instructions in my ear and I obeyed. It was easy to let my eyes slip closed and focus on his voice and pretend that he was right there next to me, telling me how beautiful I was. Hearing his voice, it was like seeing me through his eyes and I almost believed him. It was over pretty quickly. I think we had both been a bit wound up. I missed having Dante to hold onto when we were done. “You okay?” he asked after a minute.

“I guess so,” I whispered. “You?”

“I miss you.”

“Me too.”

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

“How about I come over now?”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

***

Having sex was pretty great. Having sex with _Dante_ was pretty great. Maybe it was different with other people. Frankly, I didn’t have much of a desire to find out. I liked having sex with Dante, and I didn’t really want to think about doing it with anyone else.

We still did other things. Dante insisted on it. “We have to still do friend things. It’s a rule,” he had said.

“Since when is that a rule?” I asked.

“Since now,” he insisted. “I don’t want to lose my best friend.

“You won’t,” I told him.

“Don’t want to take any chances,” he said.

But we still had sex whenever we could. It was nice. I wasn’t sure if what we were doing was actually sex, I didn’t really know how these things worked. But Dante insisted that it was and I liked it, so I didn’t argue.

One night, about a month and a half after that first time, we drove to the desert to look at the stars. We didn’t have sex in the desert. Usually. Well, there was that one time. But somehow sand got everywhere even though we were in the truck the whole time and we decided to stick to beds. Plus we couldn’t bring Legs with us if we wanted to get up to anything. And we both loved Legs.

We were quiet as we stared up at the stars. Dante held my hand in his. Legs was curled up at our feet. Looking up at the shimmering night sky, holding Dante’s hand, I started to feel like I had discovered another secret of the universe.

“How do you feel about anal?” Dante asked suddenly, breaking the spell.

“What?” I asked dumbly, kind of confused by the abrupt transition.

“Anal sex. What are your thoughts?”

I frowned. “You mean like having someone stick their thing in you?”

“Yeah.” His voice was hesitant.

I shrugged. “Sounds painful.”

“Not if you do it right.”

“You’ve done it?” I asked, instantly regretting the question. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer.

“I’ve only done things with you, Ari,” Dante reminded me, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “I’ve done research, though.”

“I don’t know, it sounds weird,” I said.

“I’m sorry,” Dante whispered.

“For what?” I asked.

“For pushing. For making you uncomfortable.”

“You don’t,” I told him.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can even stop everything if you don’t want to do it anymore. I understand, Ari.” His voice sounded small and closed off. I remembered him yelling at me on this spot, shouting that he couldn’t just be my friend. Even though one of the best memories of my life followed that moment, I didn’t like thinking about the hurt in his voice, then or now.

“You clearly don’t,” I said, turning on my side to face him. I reached out a hand and ran it gently down his face. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

“But-” I cut off his protest with a short kiss. It was unusual. Dante still was the one who initiated most of our kisses. Not because I didn’t want to kiss him, but because I didn’t always know how to start things. Even though I technically initiated our real first kiss, it was Dante who told me to kiss him instead of the other way around. But this was different. Dante needed me. Dante needed to know everything. That he was everything.

“I love you,” I whispered as we pulled apart. He looked at me with wide, shocked eyes.

“You don’t have to say that,” he protested. “Just because you know how I feel.”

“But I mean it,” I insisted. “I love you, Dante Quintana. I loved you from the day you taught me to swim. I think I’ll always love you.” I wasn’t used to saying things like this, I don’t know if I ever said the word love that many times in a row. But I needed him to know more than I was afraid. So I said it.

“Ari.” His voice came out soft and awed. “I love you too, Ari Mendoza,” he sighed before lunging forward and kissing me again. The force of his movement rolled me onto my back and he straddled my legs. Legs yipped at us disgruntledly, not too pleased with the disruption. I didn’t care. All I could think about was Dante kissing me, Dante loving me. I never wanted it to stop.

We broke out no sex in the desert rule. And our no sex with Legs around rule. We put her in the cab of the truck so she wouldn’t see anything, and maybe I should have been a little more weirded out about having sex with my dog a few feet away, but Dante consumed me. So I tried not to think about it too much.

As we laid huddled in a blanket when we finished, I thought about his question. Somehow, the idea of Dante being inside me was a lot more appealing after we’d already had sex. I didn’t know if I’d be ready for it for a while, but feeling Dante all around me...the idea of having him inside me, Dante touching me everywhere he possibly could, body and soul...I could work up to that. “Maybe we could try,” I finally said. “You know, what you said before.”

Dante pushed himself up slightly to look at me, his hair a disheveled mess. “Really?”

“If you want. I could. With you.”

“Okay,” Dante said, and part of me wondered if he wanted us to do it then and there. “I’d like that.”

“One rule,” I told him.

“Not in the truck?” he asked.

“Two rules then.”

“What is it?”

“We should go to a motel or something. Somewhere where we won’t be interrupted.”

“We’d have to be careful.” I hated that. The image of Dante bashed and beaten in a hospital bed swam in front of my eyes. I held him tighter.

“We’ll be careful,” I promised. “I just want it to be nice.”

Dante grinned. “It will be. We’re nice guys, remember?”

I laughed. I had laughed so much more since I had met Dante. And cried so much more. But the laughter made up for it. I pressed a kiss to his forehead, something I hardly ever did. I just wanted him to know, to really, really know, how much he meant to me. “I remember,” I told him.

And I was happy.


End file.
